Masquerade of Murder
by 1-800fangirl
Summary: Allen was expecting a masquerade. Instead he got two hours to figure out who was slowly killing them off one by one and why. Will he figure it out? Or will the killer be the one to say, "Checkmate?" (Rated T for slight gore and language [nothing romantic, which I apologize for]; 2p!Hetalia.)
1. Pt 1

NOTES:

A) I own none of the art used here; credit to all of the original artists. Credit also to Hima, seeing as I (and the artist, technically) own none of these characters at all.

B) I am not fond of cursing and am rather uncomfortable with myself doing it, but seeing as this is a 2p!Hetalia fanfiction, foul language is to be expected. Therefore I have 'censored' more serious ones (i.e. f*ck and sh*t), and then left more minor ones alone (i.e. hell and damn). I apologize if it takes away from the story; that was not my intention.

C) If you disagree with how I wrote the 2p!Hetalia characters, please message me - don't leave a comment about it (especially one that could be interpreted as rude). None of the characters are official as far as personality, so I used artistic license to toy around with them a bit.

CAST:

In case you don't recognize some of the characters, seeing as I used their human names.

Allen - 2p!America  
Matt - 2p!Canada  
Francois - 2p!France  
Oliver - 2p!England  
Kuro - 2p!Japan  
Viktor - 2p!Russia  
Natasha - 2p!Belarus  
Thurston - 2p!Finland  
Ronald - 2p!Austria  
Julia - 2p!Hungary  
Lutz - 2p!Germany  
Klaus - 2p!Prussia [briefly mentioned]  
Luciano - 2p!Italy  
Flavio - 2p!Romano

Now that's all out of the way, I hope you enjoy part 1 of Masquerade of Murder!

xXxXxXx

An all too familiar sigh left their lips as they moved their black chess piece forward and gently tapped over the white king. "Checkmate."

The person opposite them chuckled. "Have you become bored, my old friend?"

"You say it as if it's something new, Luciano," the winner of the match said bitterly. "Nothing holds my interest these days."

"Then why not try a new game?" the Italian suggested, casually sitting back in his seat. "It could be good for you."

The victor's eyes seemed to flash, even in the dim lighting. "Yes," they said slowly, a smirk dancing on their lips as they stared almost hungrily at their partner. "Let's."

xXxXxXx

Allen glanced at his watch, sighing. He was five minutes late – not that there was anything he could do about it. He quickly put on his mask before knocking on the door. Within seconds it opened, revealing a tall, muscular man with charcoal-colored hair.

It was the hair that immediately told Allen who it was.

"Hello, Viktor," he said, his lip curling in distaste. "Fancy meeting you here."

The Russian butler pointedly ignored the crimson-eyed teen's words, extending a gloved hand to him. "Invitation, please."

Allen rolled his eyes but handed the small piece of cardstock over to him. "I don't know why you think I'd come all the way over here if I hadn't been invited."

Viktor briefly glanced at the invitation before returning it to the teen and stepping out of the way. "You may proceed."

Allen rolled his eyes a second time but walked past him, heading down the hall toward what he presumed to be a living room of sorts. Upon entering, he noticed that a few people had arrived and were mingling already, including… No way. It couldn't be. He almost laughed out loud. "Hey, Matt," he called, walking over to where his 'brother' was standing near the couch. "You didn't tell me you were invited to this masquerade thing."

The Canadian sighed, rolling his violet eyes. "Maybe because the invitation said not to speak of it, dumb*ss?"

Allen shrugged, smirking. "Well, you've never been one to follow any type of rules, so I figured you'd have broken that one long ago."

"Oh, just shut up," Matt grumbled. "It's not as if I even want to be here."

Allen snickered. "Oh, but I can see how much effort you put into getting ready."

The party was a masquerade, but only in name. It wasn't extravagant by any means. Only a mask was required; the guest could choose to dress up or dress down after that.

The American had been torn between comfort and looking nice, but had eventually decided on an outfit that was both. He was particularly fond of the deep crimson color scheme he thought he was pulling off pretty well. His brother, however, had worn jeans and a plaid t-shirt, with a red mask to complete the look.

Matt gave him the finger without a second glance. "F*ck off, a**hole."

Allen snickered but did start to walk away from the teen, only to bump into a certain Frenchman. "Francois," he said, blinking in surprise. "It's been a while." Several years, if his memory served.

The rather scruffy blonde raised a brow at the dark-haired teen's words. "You actually recognize me?"

He rolled his eyes at the comment. "A mask isn't as much of a disguise as the movies make you think." He smirked. "Besides, you knew it was me, didn't you?"

Francois chuckled, though there wasn't even a hint of a smile on his lips. "I suppose I did."

"Let me guess," Matt called from the couch that he'd moved to sit on. "The bastard came to talk to me, didn't he?"

Allen rolled his eyes but smiled as Francois walked over to his surrogate son and simply crossed his arms while Matt began to curse him out, the Frenchman taking a puff from his cigarette ever so often. The American knew that no matter what the Canadian claimed, his father-son relationship with Francois was not so broken as he'd like everyone to think.

The crimson-eyed teen kept moving, spotting Ronald and Julia by a cabinet full of ceramic dishes. He wasn't the most fond of either of them, and so he tried to walk past without garnering their attention, but of course it was just his luck that Julia would catch sight of him.

"Yoo-hoo!" she called cheerily, waving at him. "Allen! Over here!"

Allen bit back a groan of disappointment and joined the newlywed couple. "Hey," he said with a false smile that was as cheery as he could muster. "How are you two doing?"

"Oh, we're just fine," Julia gushed, peering at him through her lace mask before adjusting the deep pink ribbon she was wearing as a choker around her neck. "What about yourself?"

The teen shrugged, already certain that the conversation was going to grow awkward very quickly. "Fine." In a desperate attempt to change the topic, he said, "How was the wedding?" He realized how rude that could be taken and hastily added, "Sorry again that I wasn't able to make it."

Julia waved her hand dismissively before tossing her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder. "Oh, don't be like that. We understand you had prior plans that couldn't be cancelled, so we won't hold it against you." She winked at him. "This time, at least."

"Still, it was a shame you couldn't come," Ronald remarked, speaking for the first time. "The ceremony was nice, but the reception was the best part." He grinned at Allen. "We had five different rock bands playing throughout the night."

Julia trailed a finger down his chest. "Oh, but I think what happened after the reception was the best part, don't you?"

Ronald gently took her hand in his, staring warmly into her pink eyes. "I think I agree," he purred.

Allen took that as a chance to excuse himself without them caring and quickly turned away, making a mock-gagging motion the moment he was sure they couldn't see him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a familiar blonde head and started to head over to it.

Unfortunately, he paid no attention to where he was going and accidentally ran into someone. He took a step back and hastily apologized. "Sorry, I wasn't –" He stopped mid-sentence, blinking in the surprise at the person he'd slammed into. "Kuro?"

The Japanese man didn't reply, simply staring at him coldly before walking away.

Allen just sighed. It was just like Kuro to ignore anyone that dared to approach him. He'd never been sociable, at least as far the American could recall. He glanced back at the man.

Dressed in all black – as usual.

The crimson-eyed teen readjusted his mask before heading towards the blonde head, which thankfully hadn't moved. "Hey, Lutz!" he called. "What's up?"

The German turned upon hearing his name, a smile forming on his face when he realized who'd said it. "Allen," he laughed, lightly punching the teen in the shoulder when he got close enough. "How've ya been?"

Allen shrugged. "Not bad." He jerked his thumb behind him. "Talked with Julia and Ron for a bit. Ran into Kuro – literally." He shook his head. "He's as anti-social as ever."

Lutz laughed. "Some things never change, huh?" He stroked his chin as he asked, eyebrow raised, "Have you heard about Julia's affair?"

Allen's jaw dropped. "Julia's what?!"

The magenta-eyed teen smirked. "Yup. Just married and she's already doing it with some other guy."

Allen shook his head. "Damn. I never would have thought she'd cheat, much less so soon after she got married."

Lutz shrugged. "Guess Ronnie boy wasn't interesting enough for her."

The dark-haired teen hesitated, then asked, "Who's she with? And does Ronald know?"

"No," the German replied. "Ronald has no idea. And that's how she wants to keep it." He sighed, running a hand through his hair and adjusting his mask before muttering, "And Klaus. She's with Klaus." He barked a laugh. "And believe me when I say I'm not on his side about it."

Allen's crimson eyes widened, then softened as he pat his friend on the shoulder. He knew that Lutz and his older brother often didn't get along. He forgot how lucky he was that he and Matt got along as well as they did. "I know you don't." He paused, then added, "Why's Klaus even going along with it?"

The German barked a laugh. "Hell if I know, Al." He sighed again. "Part of me worries he's actually in love with her."

Allen whistled. "You think so?"

Lutz shrugged, not answering.

Allen realized that his friend didn't want to continue on the topic, so he mock-tipped his hat to him walked away.

As he wandered the room, he noticed a few more people trickling in.

Thurston was one of them. Allen wasn't too fond of the Finnish man; he had a nasty temper towards just about anyone, and it was well-known that he could and probably would hurt you if you made him mad enough.

He made sure to stay on the opposite side of the room of the man clothed in deep red.

Allen also noticed Flavio had entered the room and had immediately struck up a conversation with… Was that Oliver? The teen shook his head. So many people were showing up that he hadn't seen in ages. It was rather strange, but coincidences weren't new to him, so he pushed the thought aside and walked over to the Brit and the Italian.

"Oh my strawberry shortcake," Oliver gasped, covering his mouth with one hand and placing the other on his hip. "Allen, is that you?"

Allen rolled his eyes. The man still used desserts to express both excitement and frustration. "Hello, Oliver."

The petite blonde clasped his hands together in excitement. "Goodness me!" he gushed. "You've gotten so big!"

"And you still have absolutely no taste," Flavio remarked, pushing his glasses up his nose and tossing back his bleached hair. "Such a shame."

Allen rolled his eyes. "Speak for yourself." He frowned. "Flavio, you aren't even wearing a mask – and I don't know if you got the memo, but this is a masquerade."

The man glared at him. "You're such a busybody." He sighed dramatically. "If you must know, I was given special permission from my – from the host to wear my glasses because of my poor eyesight."

Allen raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. It was strange to him that Flavio had been given this permission, but Ronald hadn't. Then again, he mused, Ronald's glasses were fake. So that explained it.

"How have you been?" Oliver asked, giving the dark-haired teen a quick hug. "I'm sure you and Matt still argue, right?"

He shrugged. "Define argue." A smirk painted his lips. "There's a lot of cursing each other out as well as a bit of fist-fighting, but I consider that getting along, not arguing."

Oliver placed a hand over his heart. "Oh, you boys will be the death of me," he said anxiously. "I'm always worrying about you because you don't worry about yourselves!"

Allen rolled his eyes. The smirk on his lips grew wider as an idea suddenly came to mind. "Hey…" he said slowly, raising a brow at the shorter man. "You know, Francois is here somewhere…" He casually gestured behind himself towards where the Frenchman was conversing with Matt.

Oliver's blue eyes grew wider before they narrowed. "Ooh, I'm going to chew out that mint chocolate chip of a man!" he announced before storming off towards the scruffy blonde.

Allen snickered, only earning a smack on the shoulder from Flavio.

"That was beyond rude," the Italian said in irritation. "Disrupting my conversation like that."

The dark-haired teen shrugged, pretending that his shoulder didn't actually hurt. Damn, he winced. Flavio packed a hell of a hit.

He noticed the blonde had left him to go chat with Ronald and Julia, which honestly Allen wasn't all too mad about. It was a relief to be free of the fashion-crazed man.

Allen cracked his knuckles as he gazed at the crowd. There still wasn't a huge amount of people – only fifteen, give or take. He noticed Viktor walking in with a short, black-haired man with a dragon tattoo curling up his left arm.

Zao, he realized. But there was also a girl walking next to Viktor as well. She didn't make eye contact with anyone, simply staring at the ground. She wasn't pretty, per se, but not really plain, either. She looked familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on why…

Then he remembered. It was Natasha, Viktor's sister. Based on her black dress and white apron, she was the maid at this mansion. That made sense, since her older brother was the butler. And if memory served, she was also mute.

His suspicions were confirmed as she signed a question to her brother, who answered in the same fashion. Zao asked Viktor a question, and the Russian shook his head, which must have angered the short Chinese man, based on how he stormed off.

Allen frowned, wondering what was going on between the trio. All three of them appeared irritated, though only Zao had been frustrated enough to walk away.

The American was brought out of his thoughts by Viktor clearing his throat.

"Now that all of the guests have arrived," the Russian man said smoothly, "let us journey to the dining room." He gestured to the Belarusian woman next to him. "Natasha has already prepared supper and laid it out on the table for you."

Allen filed into the dining room behind the rest of the crowd, snagging the first seat he saw. Based on how people were simply choosing a random chair, the seating hadn't been assigned.

As Viktor had said, plates with food were already laid out in front of them. Almost everyone had started to eat already, so after a moment of hesitation the dark-haired teen followed suit.

Allen had ended up sitting between Oliver and Thurston, which was not the most ideal situation for him. On the bright side, Matt was sitting across from him, though with Julia to the right and Zao to the left.

The crimson-eyed teen noticed from the corner of his eye that Viktor and Natasha did not sit, but instead stood to the side of the room.

Julia and Oliver began to gossip about recipes, the Brit actually munching on several cupcakes and powdered donuts that had been resting on a plate as they conversed. Francois appeared to be having a rather heated discussion with Flavio – more than likely about the former's lack of fashion sense. Kuro and Zao seemed to be speaking coldly, albeit cordially, to each other. Ronald and Matt had just then started talking about something as well.

Allen sighed. That left him with Thurston.

"Yo," he said awkwardly, throwing the man clothed entirely in red a salute. "How've you been?"

Thurston snorted. "Allen, I know you don't give a damn how I'm doing." A malicious grin painted his lips. "But all's well."

Allen regretted sparking the conversation. "That's… That's good." He looked around desperately for a way to save himself, but no one paid any attention.

A chill suddenly went down the teen's spine. It felt as if someone was missing. His eyes narrowed as he counted heads. A moment later, they flew open in realization.

Lutz was gone.

He couldn't dwell on the thought, however, as the lights flickering between on and off was quite the interference to his thought process.

"What the f*ck?!" Matt shouted as they finally stopped flickering and turned completely off.

Julia gasped and said something along the lines of, "Oh Ronnie, hold me!"

Allen resisted the urge to gag at that.

"Everyone, please remain calm," Viktor said, his voice sounding almost… Pleased. "The power should return momentarily. Until then, I will inspect…" He trailed off as a screen lowered into the room.

"Now, Viktor," the brown-haired man said cheerily, an Italian accent clearly noticeable in his voice. "That won't be necessary. I just wanted to greet my guests in style!" He threw his arms open, a cold grin on his face. "Welcome, friends, to Luciano's Masquerade of Murder!"

Allen's jaw dropped. That was Luciano?! He shook his head. Sh*t. It really had been years since he'd last seen him. But putting that aside – what the hell was he talking about…?

Luciano held up a finger, as if to stop them from speaking. "Please hold your questions." He sat back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and lacing his fingers together. "All of you were carefully selected by me, myself, and I to take part in this wonderful little game. The game is simple." His maroon eyes gleaned. "Losing is easy. If you die, you lose. But to win…" He chuckled. "Winning is far more of a challenge . You must survive, and you must know who the killer is and why, precisely, they're killing all of you." He winked. "Let me give you a few hints. Number one: they're in the room with you right now."

The crowd of guests erupted with murmurs and suspicious glances were cast every other way.

"And number two," Luciano continued, drawing their attention back to him, "they bear a specific grudge against each and every one of you." He leaned forward. "Now, there is but one rule in this game of mine: you are not allowed to leave. Leaving results in an automatic loss, and by default, your death!" He giggled. "I already know that some of you are going to bolt, correct? Because surely the killer isn't ready to take someone out yet." His smile disappeared. "You're a fool if you believe that." He tilted his head to the side. "The killer has already started."

A door on the side of the room suddenly flew open, and Lutz's body fell out, limbs mangled and twisted together in ways that shouldn't have been possible.

He was dead.

Julia shrieked, and Allen had to cover his mouth with his hand to stop himself from throwing up.

Matt let loose a string of curses, and Oliver burst into tears.

"Don't be so dramatic," Luciano chastised. "It's not as if any of you actually cared about him."

Allen glared fiercely at the screen, not caring whether the Italian could genuinely see him or not. Never before had he felt so angry.

"Now, I'm almost done explaining the rules. You know what that means," Luciano continued, throwing the crowd a wink. "Soon the killer will be let loose on all of you!" He tapped his chin, thinking. "What was it I had to say… Oh!" He giggled. "Most, if not all, of you are somehow related to at least one person. And perhaps you feel as if you can trust that one person." His smirk widened. "But you can't! Because they might have a knife with them right now, ready to stab you in the back the moment they have the chance." He laughed. "Brother against brother! Sibling against sibling! Husband against wife!" He grinned maliciously at them. "Good luck." With that, the screen shut off, and the room was filled with pitch black once again.

Within seconds the lights had turned back on, but dead silence was heavy on the guests. Finally, Flavio spoke. "What now?"

Matt glared at him. "What the f*ck do you mean, 'What now'?!" He sighed, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair. "We try to get the hell out of this place, dipsh*t!"

"But didn't you hear what Luciano said?" Oliver asked anxiously, wiping at his face delicately with a cloth. "We can't just leave, or else we'll be killed!"

"Then what do you expect us to do?" Matt snarled. "Stay here and be sitting ducks?"

"Stop arguing," Kuro said, speaking for what very well may have been the first time that evening. "You won't accomplish anything with it."

"Then what do you advise, huh?" Matt snapped back. "Give me your ever so wise advice."

Kuro responded with an icy glare. "Luciano mentioned that everyone here is related to at least one other person." He surveyed the group. "But how?" He gestured towards Zao. "I can tell you that he is my half-sibling."

Matt jerked his thumb towards Allen. "He's my brother in every way but blood."

Oliver's lip curled in distaste as he pointed towards Francois. "That rather disgusting man over there is my cousin."

"Ronald and I are married, of course," Julia added.

"Natasha is my sister," Viktor said, speaking for the first time since Luciano had appeared on the screen. "Therefore our relationship is accounted for."

Allen slowly turned to Thurston, who hadn't said anything yet. "Who're you related to?" he asked slowly.

The group's attention turned to the Finnish man.

"None of you," he said, crossing his arms.

Kuro's scarlet eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Yet you should be."

Thurston slammed his fist on the table. "Well I'm not, damn it!" he growled. "So f*ck off."

Allen watched the two, prepared for some kind of fight to break out. Thankfully, nothing happened, and Kuro simply turned on his heel and walked away.

"Well, what about you, Flavio?" Julia asked innocently, her pink eyes glittering. "Who are you related to?"

The blonde Italian nervously pushed his glasses up his nose. "Julia, you should know that already."

She pouted, sticking out her bottom lip. "Well, I've forgotten. Tell me."

Flavio sighed, though his eyes seemed to glisten with fear from behind his glasses. "Luciano," he muttered. "Luciano is my little brother."

Silence fell over the group.

Unable to stand it, Allen said, "Well, that's great and all, but we need to think of a plan here." He crossed his arms over his chest. "One of us is the killer. One of us…" He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. "One of us killed Lutz." He made sure to avoid looking at his friend's lifeless body. "And we've got to figure out who."

"I think it was Viktor," Matt said without even a moment of hesitation. "It's always the butler."

Natasha's violet eyes widened before narrowing as she angrily signed something towards the Canadian.

"She says that I would never do such a thing," Viktor translated. He quickly signed something to the girl, and she seemed to slowly shrink back in submission.

"There's zero logic behind your statement," Zao muttered, adjusting the mask still resting on his face.

"Tell me you've got something better," Matt challenged angrily. He hesitated, then added, "Besides. Being the butler, you'd think Viktor would have known this was going to happen."

All eyes turned towards Viktor, who raised an eyebrow in response. "You don't have to believe me, and I'm certain you won't, but neither Natasha nor I was aware that this was going to occur."

Matt snorted. "Yeah right."

"You're all idiots!" Francois growled, drawing the group's attention to him. "I'm sick of all the damn chatter." He tore off his mask and threw it to the ground, grinding it beneath his heel before glaring at the others. "I'm leaving."

"But that's breaking the rules!" Oliver fretted. "You can't –"

"Oh, I sure as hell can," he retorted, storming out of the room and into the next.

The tension in the air grew so thick that Allen was sure a chainsaw would have been needed to cut it.

Their suspicions were confirmed as the lights went off, and the scream of a certain Frenchman met their ears.

Luciano's voice filled the room, though the screen was not lowered this time. "Well, well, well – what did I say about leaving?"

The lights came back on and everyone immediately rushed into the room Francois had entered.

Allen once again felt the urge to retch as he saw what had become of the blonde.

Three sharpened poles of some kind of metal that the dark-haired teen couldn't name had pierced Francois at different angles. Crimson blood poured from the wounds and soaked the carpet.

"Oh my," he heard a feminine voice – it had to be Julia – whisper. "Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness gracious!"

Allen's eyes widened as he remembered his brother. Matt had just been reunited with surrogate father no more than thirty minutes ago, and then for this to happen… He turned his head, searching for the Canadian, and felt a pang of sympathy shoot through his chest when he saw him.

Matt had turned around and was resting his head on his fist that he'd placed on the door frame, muttering something repeatedly to himself. Finally, he punched the wall and growled, "Everyone. Leave." He turned to face the group, his violet eyes heavy. "We have no right to stay with his body."

"He's right," Allen added. "Come on. Let's go."

As the group left the room, Allen squeezed his brother's shoulder, just to let him know that he was there.

"Thanks," Matt muttered.

The crimson-eyed teen nodded. He hesitated, then said, "I know you aren't the killer. And I hope you already know that I'm not, either. Because if we want to survive this, we've got to stick together."

Matt just nodded, and the duo followed behind the rest of the guests.

The group had not returned to the dining room, however, for no one wanted to face Lutz's body a second time.

"We need some kind of plan," Allen announced when every had settled down. "We can't just wander around and act helpless. Then none of us will survive."

"We should split up," Thurston said, crossing his arms over his chest. "We'll cover more ground."

"What on Earth do you mean by 'cover more ground'?!" Ronald exclaimed, cleaning his glasses on his shirt. Allen hadn't even noticed him remove his mask. "What do expect us to be doing?!"

The Finnish man rolled his eyes. "One of us is a killer that Luciano essentially hired, right?" He waited until the Austrian nodded before continuing. "Well, there's no way that there aren't some kind of clues scattered about in this f*cking house." He took off his scarlet mask and crossed his arms over his chest. "Therefore we need to find them."

Matt snorted, having recovered as much as one could after seeing two dead bodies. "Dumb*ss. Have you ever seen a horror movie?" He took off his own mask and shoved it into his back pocket. "You split up, you die. It's that simple."

Allen frowned. "Matt's got a point." He followed suit of the others and removed his mask, noticing that the rest of the group either had done or was doing the same. "By splitting up, at least one of us will be with the killer. The killer will kill them, and then have the perfect opportunity to sneak up on every other group and slowly pick us all off."

Thurston raised an eyebrow. "You sure seem to know a lot about this, Allen." He took a few steps closer to the American. "Any particular reason why?"

Allen glared at him. "Maybe I'm just not a f*cking idiot, like you."

"Enough," Viktor said calmly. "Let's take a vote so this is… Fair."

The dark-haired teen rolled his eyes. "Nothing is f*cking fair in this. It's life or death – there's no in between."

Viktor studied Allen with his eerily bright red eyes. "Indeed."

Oliver broke out into a fit of coughing, covering his mouth with a cloth he apparently hadn't yet put down. "I think taking a vote is a good idea," he said when the coughing had passed.

Gradually the rest of the group muttered their approval.

"Fine," Allen said. "All in favor of staying together, raise your hand."

He pointedly raised his own, before counting the rest. Oliver, Matt, Flavio, Julia, Ronald, and Natasha had all placed their hands in the air.

Viktor signed something to his younger sister, who hesitated before putting her hand down.

Not that it mattered. "Six to five," the American announced. "We're staying together."

Thurston glared angrily at him. "Like hell we are!" he practically screamed, his temper snapping faster than a whip. He moved dangerously close Allen, his red eyes gleaming with hatred. "I'll f*cking kill you myself if I have to." At that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

Allen felt a sinking sensation in his stomach as he watched Thurston enter another room. "Wait!" he called, starting to chase after the Finnish man. "Don't –" He froze, completely still as the lights flickered off.

"It appears that there's a new rule," Luciano said, his voice echoing in the room. "Only the killer is allowed to kill!"

Seconds later, a sickening smack was heard from the room over. Then the lights came back on.

Allen looked around. It seemed as if no one had left the room.

Of course, someone had.

But who?

"Who wants to go in there?" Oliver said with a nervous giggle. "Not I!"

Julia fanned herself with her hand. "I don't think I can handle seeing another body. This is all far too stressful!"

Zao rolled his eyes. "Cowards." He walked over to the door frame, though it was obvious to all by the way he squared his shoulders that he had to prepare himself to go in. A moment later he returned, the blood drained from his face.

"Well?" Matt demanded roughly. "What happened to him?"

At first, the Chinese man just shook his head. He swallowed, then said, "Cut in half. By a battle axe."

Ronald inhaled sharply, placing his hand on Julia's shoulder as she choked back a sob.

Allen ran his hands through his hair. "Well," he said finally, "I guess that determines it. Splitting up is not a good idea."

While Viktor, Kuro, and Zao weren't all too pleased with that decision, they didn't protest. Not after what had just happened.

Allen was having trouble processing what had just occurred. Hell, he was having trouble processing the entire evening.

It had first seemed as if it was just a normal party with a masquerade theme to spice things up. Then Luciano had 'appeared' and told them that they were all going to die unless they could figure out who was killing them and why. He'd presented Lutz as proof of the consequences. Francois had tested them, and had immediately been killed. Likewise, Thurston had just followed suit.

It all felt too sudden. There was hardly any time between each death, and chances are another of them would be dead soon, too.

He glanced at the rest of the group. They seemed to be coming to terms with everything as well.

Matt. Not even for a second would Allen believe Matt was the killer. Even as a kid the Canadian had refused to harm even a fly. That shoved him out of the picture.

Ronald. The American wasn't too sure about the dark-haired Austrian. He didn't seem to be someone who could kill, but looks could be deceiving. He'd have to keep an eye on him.

Julia. Again, Allen didn't know. On the outside she appeared to be the ordinary damsel in distress, but that could easily cover up a malicious personality.

His eyes widened as an idea struck him.

Perhaps the Hungarian was aware that everyone still alive at the party knew of her affair with Klaus, and she didn't want anyone leaking the secret to Ronald…

It seemed unlikely, but it was better than nothing.

Kuro. Allen wasn't sure what to think of the quiet Japanese man. His silence and cold exterior made him seem like someone who'd kill without a second thought, not to mention many attributed him with holding grudges. He'd keep a close eye on him.

Natasha. The girl was mute, he knew that. And she was protective over her brother, though not obsessively so. She appeared to be completely helpless, only able to communicate through Viktor.

Ah, Viktor. Allen had immediately suspected the Russian. It was known that he was rather possessive of his younger sister, not to mention he practically radiated a dark aura that even a blind man could see. But that felt far too obvious. Nonetheless, he'd do his best to never let the charcoal-haired man leave his sight.

Oliver. Allen was fairly certain that the pastel-loving and dessert-crazed man wasn't the killer. He'd known him for so long that while he was aware of the Brit's eccentric tendencies, he couldn't picture him killing someone in cold blood.

Flavio. Now, the Italian could fall either way. If one simply looked at him, they more than likely would not declare him to be a killer, but his relationship with Luciano instantly made him a suspect.

Zao. The Chinese man, like Viktor, radiated a dark sort of aura, but also like Kuro, he was silent and didn't speak much to the others. Allen was determined to keep an eye on him as well.

"We can't just stay in the same room all day," Matt finally said, interrupting Allen's thoughts. "We're definitely going to die if we do that."

"Agreed," Flavio said, crossing his arms over his chest. "We should get a move on."

"Alright," Allen said. He turned towards Viktor, one eyebrow raised. "What rooms do you advise we search first, Mr. Butler?"

The Russian sighed, as if he had expected Allen to treat him in such a manner. "Perhaps the basement, yes?"

Matt cursed loudly. "It's always the f*cking basement."

Allen mock-bowed to Viktor. "Then lead the way."

Viktor pointedly ignored the American's action and exited the room, Natasha following behind him. As she passed Allen, she glared at him before giving him a sign that he didn't need a translation for: the middle finger.

Slowly but the surely the group followed the tall Russian out of the room, anxiety levels for each person undoubtedly through the roof.  
They had to pass through several rooms and hallways, and each time they turned a corner Allen expected someone to jump out in front of them and proceed to kill them all.

Though it had only been a few minutes since they'd left behind Thurston's body, it felt to most of the group as if it had been several hours. Time should have slowed, but instead it seemed to be passing faster and faster.

As they were crossing through what appeared to be a game room because of the pool table sitting in the middle of it, Allen swore he heard a creaking sound from behind him.

"Everyone freeze," he ordered, straining his ears to listen. After a moment, he said, "Did anyone else hear that?"

"Hear what, precisely?" Ronald said nervously, his tone implying that he actually didn't want to know.

"Creaking," he replied. "Like floorboards, or something."

"I did!" Oliver added, piping in with his two cents. "But I thought it was just me."

"Then how about both of you shut the f*ck up?" Matt demanded, rolling his eyes. "I want to listen."

Everyone was silent, and this time the creaking was much louder.

Matt's violet eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute…" His head whipped around towards Flavio, and within seconds he'd jumped forward and shoved the Italian against a wall, twisting himself so he landed on the floor beside him.

A split second later a massive hole opened in the floor where the two had previously been standing, and based on the darkness within it, it went down incredibly far.

"Holy sh*t," Allen murmured. "That's a hell of a hole."

Flavio had a hand over his heart and was repeatedly shaking his head. "No. No. Luciano would never."

Viktor laughed unfeelingly. "Of course he would."

Flavio glared at him. "You don't know my brother! He wouldn't dare –"

Viktor silenced him with nothing but an icy stare. "I know him better than you do, Flavio." A tiny smile danced on hip lips. "Better than you ever will, I'm sure."

Flavio opened his mouth to reply, then snapped it shut, for he had no idea what to say.

"I hate to interrupt," Kuro said coldly. "But one of us is missing."

Allen spun on his heel to face the Japanese man. "What?!" he demanded. "Who?"

"Zao," he replied simply. "I noticed he left during the commotion, but I didn't pursue him."

Allen ran a hand through his hair. "Did you see –"

Ronald's gasp interrupted the American's statement. "Julia!" he said frantically. "She's gone too!"

Allen swore.

Things had just gotten worse.


	2. Pt 2

NOTES:

A) I own none of the art used here; credit to all of the original artists. Credit also to Hima, seeing as I (and the artist, technically) own none of these characters at all.

B) I am not fond of cursing and am rather uncomfortable with myself doing it, but seeing as this is a 2p!Hetalia fanfiction, foul language is to be expected. Therefore I have 'censored' more serious ones (i.e. f*ck and sh*t), and then left more minor ones alone (i.e. hell and damn). I apologize if it takes away from the story; that was not my intention.

C) If you disagree with how I wrote the 2p!Hetalia characters, please message me - don't leave a comment about it (especially one that could be interpreted as rude). None of the characters are official as far as personality, so I used artistic license to toy around with them a bit.

CAST:

In case you don't recognize some of the characters, seeing as I used their human names.

Allen - 2p!America  
Matt - 2p!Canada  
Francois - 2p!France  
Oliver - 2p!England  
Kuro - 2p!Japan  
Viktor - 2p!Russia  
Natasha - 2p!Belarus  
Thurston - 2p!Finland  
Ronald - 2p!Austria  
Julia - 2p!Hungary  
Lutz - 2p!Germany  
Klaus - 2p!Prussia [briefly mentioned]  
Luciano - 2p!Italy  
Flavio - 2p!Romano

Now that's all out of the way, I hope you enjoy part 2 of Masquerade of Murder!

xXxXxXx

Allen swore.

Things had just gotten worse.

Natasha frantically signed something to Viktor, who nodded and turned to the group, saying, "Natasha believes that one of them must be the killer, and therefore one of them is about to die."

A bloodcurdling scream suddenly met their ears.

Allen and Matt exchanged glances, just as Ronald shouted, "Julia!" and ran from the room.

"Aw, f*ck," Allen cursed as he chased after the Austrian, the others just behind him.

They didn't have to go far.

Merely a few doors down they found the Hungarian woman, her face as white as a sheet.

Ronald ran up to his wife, taking her hands in his. "Julia?" he said pleadingly. "Julia, please tell me you're okay!"

She pointed with a shaky finger at the room connected to the one she was in, her pink eyes wide as saucers and brimming with tears. "There's… He's…" She broke into sobs, burying her face in her husband's chest.

Allen gazed warily at the door standing between him and whatever horror Julia had witnessed, noting that the Hungarian woman had only opened it but a crack. Steeling himself, he carefully gripped the silver handle and slowly turned it.

There was so much blood.

He cursed, turning away and pressing his fingers to his temples.

It couldn't be real.

"Allen," Matt said slowly, "what exactly is in that room?"

Allen looked up from the floor, staring at his brother with crimson eyes that now bore a heavy weight unable to be put into words. "Come and see."

Hesitantly the Canadian approached, Oliver, Kuro, Viktor, and Natasha right behind him. Ronald remained with his wife, gently stroking her hair and whispering calming things into her ear.

Inside the room lay Zao's body, his torso completely drenched in blood. But no – that wasn't even the worst of it.

The worst was the massive clock that had been painted on the wall with the Chinese man's blood.

"Oh my mint chocolate chip," Oliver said faintly. "Why would someone do this?"

He didn't receive an answer.

No one could give one.

"Another one down," Luciano said merrily, his voice once again filling the mansion from hidden speakers in every room, "and so quickly, too! You know, part of me suspects that you guys just aren't trying your hardest to figure out who the killer is. So I've decided to set a little time limit. What does that clock say?"

Allen swallowed the lump in his throat, wishing that he was at least able to see the Italian instead of hearing his voice from speakers scattered about the house. "11 o' clock."

Luciano giggled. "11 o' clock! I almost went with midnight, but how cliché is that?" The group could practically hear him smirk. "You have exactly one hour and thirty minutes until you've all lost my little game and therefore will all die." There was a pause, and then he added, "Or perhaps you'll already be dead, hmm?" There was a click as the speakers shut off.

At first, no one spoke. Allen and Matt exchanged glances, and Oliver was almost hyperventilating. Natasha looked as if she was going to be sick, and Viktor was tightly gripping her left shoulder.

Finally, Flavio let out a heavy breath, turning on his heel and marching out of the room and into the one where Ronald and Julia stood. "Right," he said in an accusatory tone, pointing at the Hungarian woman. "The rest of us were all in a separate room when Zao was killed." He stared coldly at her. "You, however, were not." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Therefore you must have killed him."

The rest of the group had followed the Italian and were watching the encounter closely.

Julia's pink eyes widened. "I – what?" She shook her head. "No. No! I would never."

"But it's not like you can provide us with an alibi," Flavio continued. "So what else do you expect us to think?"

"Don't talk to my wife like that!" Ronald snapped. "Julia is not a killer."

"Are you sure that's not just what she wants you to think?" Flavio demanded. "Because right now it sure looks like she killed him!"

"I didn't kill anyone!" she shrieked. "I can't stand the sight of blood. There's no way I'd be able – be able to slaughter Zao as someone has done!"

"Then who else are we supposed to blame?" Flavio said, running his hands through his bleached hair. "You probably killed him to keep Ronald from finding out about your affair with Klaus!"

The blood drained from Julia's face.

Flavio smirked, figuring he'd hit the nail on the head. "That's why, right? That's why you killed him!"

Ronald stared at his wife, confusion written all over his features. "Julia? What's he talking about?"

Allen took a step back, worried about what might happen next.

"Oh, you heard me," Flavio said triumphantly. "She's cheating on you! And I'd bet money she was willing to kill all of us to prevent you from knowing."

Ronald shook his head, still staring at his wife. "No. You're lying." He grabbed her hands that had fallen limp by her sides. "Julia, tell me it's not true!"

The strawberry blonde stared at the ground, her hair falling over her eyes.

"As I thought," Flavio said with an almost malicious smirk.

And then she snapped. "It wasn't me!" The woman yanked her hands from her husband's, glaring at all of them with tear-filled eyes. "I didn't kill anyone. I would never kill anyone!" She turned to her husband, more tears spilling down her face. "He's right, Ronnie. I am having an affair with Klaus. And I've been trying so hard to stop, but I just – I just –" She broke out into sobs, shoving past the Austrian and running out of the room.

At first, no one moved. Then Matt muttered, "Oh, f*ck no!" and tore after the girl.

Ronald hesitated, then followed suit, though doubt seemed to be dancing in his red eyes.

Allen sighed. It was amazing how quickly things could fall apart. Flavio may have been certain Julia was the killer, but he wasn't so sure.

Nonetheless, it wasn't wise for the Hungarian to be wandering around the house on her own, so he too chased after her.

The American ran from room after room, opening each door, finding nothing, slamming it shut, and moving on. The silence was eerie, and he was just about ready to give up when he heard a shrill scream.

"No," he muttered, turning a corner to head toward the sound and almost crashing into Matt.

"Allen," the Canadian said, his violet eyes wide. He cursed. "Tell me you didn't just hear a scream, too."

Allen just nodded. Words weren't needed.

The duo immediately starting running in the direction the scream had come from, fearing the worst. Within seconds they'd heard a second scream, deeper than the first, though still rather feminine.

"Ronald," Allen said, and Matt nodded. They put on a burst of speed, turning a corner and spotting an open door at the end of the hall. They ran in, only to see that Kuro, Viktor, Natasha, and Flavio had beaten them there.

Ronald was standing in the center of the room, hands clamped over his mouth and eyes shut so tightly it was as if he was trying to forget something that could not be forgotten.

Perhaps he was.

Julia lay on the floor at his feet, pink eyes wide with fear and mouth open in a silent scream. Around her neck were red marks that would undoubtedly become deep purple bruises. The ribbon she'd been wearing as a choker was now untied and strewn across her chest.

"Dead!" Ronald shrieked. "Someone killed her!" He glared at the group, eyes burning with hatred and puffed up red from tears. "Which of you?! Which of you took her life?"

Allen just shook his head, unable to find words.

Ronald pointed at Flavio. "You!" he said angrily. "It must have been you! You accused her of killing Zao to get the suspicion off you before you killed her yourself!"

The Italian's jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me?" he said incredulously. "If anything you killed her – you 'found' her body, right?"

Ronald opened his mouth to protest, but ended up snapping it shut. "I didn't kill her. I wouldn't kill my wife."

Natasha signed something to Viktor, who raised a brow before turning to face the Austrian. "Natasha says that you must have killed her out of rage after learning she was cheating on you."

"W-What?!" Ronald sputtered. "I may have been angry, but I would never have killed her because of it!"

Matt snorted. "Likely story."

"Please, let's stop arguing," Oliver begged. "I've got a positively awful headache, and all of the shouting is doing nothing to improve it." The blonde's body seemed to twitch as he hugged himself. "Everything is just so dreadful!"

Kuro glared at the Brit. "The argument cannot be ceased until we figure out who, exactly, is trying to exterminate each and every one of us. In case you've forgotten, we're being timed, and each second that goes by is a second closer to our inevitable death if we don't figure out who the killer is."

"Agreed," Viktor said coolly, glancing at the watch on his wrist. "We now have seventy five minutes to solve this 'mystery' we've been forced into."

Oliver seemed to shrink backwards, his body jerking with a slight spasm a second time. "I suppose you're right."

"We can't stay here," Allen said, drawing the group's attention to himself. "She's dead now, and there's nothing we can do about it." He surveyed the six people in front of him. "What we can do is search this house for clues. Every corner in every room."

Matt nodded. "Allen's got a point. We may not be able to trust each other, but we can't run off or give up, either." His violet eyes flashed. "Then we become prey for the killer."

"We cannot allow ourselves to play along willingly in this demented game," Kuro said simply. "If we do that, we become nothing but pathetic little pawns."

"Then it is decided," Viktor concluded. "We will search the manor for clues, yes?"

Slowly but surely, the rest of the group nodded their assent, Ronald being the last one. They slowly left the room, the Austrian taking a final, pained look at his dead wife before shutting the door behind him.

The first room they came to was completely empty.

"Well, this isn't suspicious, is it?" Matt muttered sarcastically.

Allen rolled his eyes. "Suspicious or not, we can't use it to our advantage." He raised a brow at his brother. "I don't know about you, Matt, but I don't have a fingerprint kit on me."

The Canadian flipped him off but said nothing in response.

"What I'd like to know is why the red velvet are there so many empty rooms?" Oliver said crossly, a short spasm jolting through his body.

"Perhaps the butler knows," Ronald said coldly, causing the group to turn towards Viktor.

The Russian simply shrugged. "I do not know many of the secrets of this house. In fact, I'm certain I know next to none. Natasha and I were both given the order to venture only into the main room, the dining room, and the kitchen. Along with select bathrooms, of course. At night we returned to our own home to sleep. I must admit that I am sorely uneducated about the mansion."

No one knew what to say to that.

The next room they encountered seemed to be far more promising. It was filled with all sorts of statues and artifacts – none of which could be considered a weapon, however.

"Alright," Allen said, cracking his knuckles. "Look around for anything suspicious. Some of the deaths we've witnessed have been far too planned for the killer to not have prepared something in various rooms."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Matt muttered as he cracked his neck. "Let's go."

Immediately the group split up – though none left the room – and began searching the area.

The first thing Allen examined was the statue leaning against the wall. Partially because it looked out of place, seeing as it appeared to have been stylized like those of ancient Egypt, and also because he had a feeling that it could easily conceal some sort of secret passage.

He knelt next to it, trailing his fingers down the side, feeling for something – anything – that could be considered out of place. But no such luck.

Or so he thought.

The teen's crimson eyes widened as he felt a tiny little switch on the side of the statue. Without even a second of hesitation, he flicked it.

 _Click._

Instead of revealing a door hidden in the wall as he'd hoped, the statue slowly leaned over and started to fall.

Allen cursed as he pushed off the wall and rolled out of the way, narrowly missing being crushed by the heavy statue, which fell to the ground with a crash.

Oliver shrieked at the sound, jumping backwards and nearly tripping on air.

The falling statue apparently triggered something else, because there was a string of Japanese curses as Kuro dropped to the ground near the American and placed a hand on his back to keep him there. A split second later, a volley of arrows flew over the duo's heads and into the wall behind them.

When it was clear nothing else was going to shoot at them, they slowly got to their feet.

"Are you uninjured?" Viktor asked, his face pale. "Believe me when I say that I was not aware of anything like this."

Natasha's face was also deathly pale as she shakily signed something to her brother.

"Natasha says that she also had no idea," the Russian added before signing a brief reply to his sister.

"I'm fine," Kuro said stiffly, brushing himself off. Then he turned to look at Allen. "I apologize if I startled you by forcing you to the ground."

The American offered him half-hearted laugh. "You saved my life – I can't complain."

"So, is the whole mansion f*cking riddled with traps or something?" Matt asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's just great. Another way I could die besides murder."

Oliver anxiously tucked a strand of his pale blonde hair behind his ear, hand twitching as he did so. "I feel as if I'm going to pass out."

Flavio laughed bitterly. "Oh, you aren't the only one."

"Let's not panic," Allen said in the most reassuring manner he could muster. "We just need to take extreme caution when we go from room to room."

"Well, no sh*t," Matt said, rolling his eyes. "I think most of us can figure that out."

Allen casually flipped his brother off as he continued. "I also recommend not doing what I did and blindly investigate something."

Natasha signed something urgently to her brother, whose red eyes widened as he turned his head to face the door.

"Um, what the hell?!" Matt asked, fear dancing in his voice.

"Natasha said Ronald has just gone into that room," Viktor said slowly. "Alone."

Allen raised an eyebrow. "I guess we should –"

A loud bang followed by a short yelp and then a much louder crash echoed from the room the Austrian had just entered, off-key music notes seeming to play as well.

"That certainly doesn't bode well," Flavio murmured, eyes wide behind his glasses. "Any of you care to investigate?"

Allen hesitated, unsure if he could handle what might be in the room.

Kuro seemed to notice this and stepped forward. "I will." He strode over to the doorway and leaned in. After only a few seconds he turned around, his red eyes heavy. "A trap. Or at least I assume." He ran a hand through his dark hair. "It seems a piano has crushed him."

Matt's jaw dropped. "You're lying."

The Japanese man barked a laugh. "Want to take a look for yourself?" He stared for a moment at the Canadian before redirecting his attention to the group. "It appears we cannot be too careful."

Allen just couldn't comprehend how quickly everything was happening. "Six," he muttered. "They've gotten six of us." He glanced at watch on his wrist. "And we've only got an hour left."

A heavy silence fell over the group, as no one knew how to react to that.

"Well, I do suppose we can't just stand around in here," Oliver said, another spasm shaking his body, his blue eyes full of exhaustion. Beads of sweat were dancing on his forehead. "We should probably move on."

No one argued.

The next room the group ended up in was full of paintings.

"This is straight out of some kind of horror movie," Matt snorted. "I'd bet money that there's some kind of hidden passage behind these."

"Like you've got money," Allen said, rolling his eyes.

"Speak for yourself," the Canadian retorted.

"Putting that aside," Viktor added as he studied a landscape image of a wheat field, "I think that it's certainly possible there could be something hidden behind one of these."

"I wouldn't put it past Luciano," Kuro agreed. "We should look them over."

"Then let's not waste any time," Allen said, starting to examine a portrait of a bouquet of roses. "We haven't got any to spare."

Each person started to carefully go over a painting, one by one. To each of them it felt as if hours passing, when in reality it couldn't have been more than five minutes.

Oliver, however, was feeling very… Odd. Everything was so fuzzy in front of him, and he kept twitching and he wasn't sure why. The others either hadn't noticed his behavior or didn't find it out of character for him.

He did catch their attention, however, as he fell to the ground and started to convulse so violently it seemed as if he was going to rip himself in two.

"What the hell?!" Matt shouted, jumping backwards as the Brit collapsed in front of him. "What the f*ck is the matter with you?!"

He didn't get a reply.

Oliver's body was jerking around on the floor as if it had been possessed by some otherworldly creature. His crystalline eyes had practically rolled into the back of his head, and unintelligible noises were leaving his mouth.

Poison, Allen realized. "He's been poisoned!"

"How?" Flavio demanded. "Did someone poison him?"

"That's not important right now!" Allen snarled. "Someone help him!"

But no one did. No one knew what to do.

Oliver seemed to throw them one last pitiful, helpless glance before his body stilled.

Allen punched the wall angrily. "Another one," he muttered. "How? How?!"

Viktor knelt down by the Brit's lifeless body, examining him carefully. Finally, he said, "Strychnine."

Flavio's jaw dropped. "Strychnine?!" he said incredulously. "How on Earth did someone get their hands on strychnine?!"

"More importantly," Matt growled. "How did it get inside of Oliver?"

"He must have ingested it in some manner," Kuro replied before turning to Natasha, eyebrow raised. "Perhaps it was in the food."

The Belarusian girl's violet eyes widened, and she shook her head, signing something to Viktor.

"Natasha said that she would never poison anyone," her brother translated.

Matt rolled his eyes. "That's what any of us would say." He glared at the girl. "If she can't prove her innocence, then who else do we have to blame?"

Natasha signed something to him, clearly frustrated, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

"She'd like you to stop accusing her simply because you have no else to put the blame on," Viktor said after a moment. He sighed, gently grabbing her arm and pulling her off to the side. "One second, please."

"What I want to know," Allen muttered, casting a sideways glance towards Matt, "is how Viktor knew what poison had killed Oliver."

"What do you mean?" his brother replied in a harsh whisper, raising a brow at the American's comment. "Couldn't he have just recognized the symptoms?"

Allen shrugged. "Possibly. But I know I wouldn't have." He stared at the Canadian. "Matt, strychnine is colorless and odorless. It's no wonder Oliver somehow ate it and didn't realize it." He turned, closely watching the Russian arguing with his younger sibling. "But how did it get there? And how did Viktor know exactly what it was?"

Flavio frowned, for he'd been listening in on their conversation. "Are you implying that Viktor and Natasha are working together?"

Allen shrugged. "I hadn't even thought about that, but it could be possible."

"What I'm suspicious of," Kuro said in a low voice, walking over to the trio, "is the fact that Viktor and Natasha are employees of Luciano – at least I assume – and they still haven't been taken out by the 'killer'."

"I've been wondering that myself," Matt said, his violet eyes narrowing. "It's awfully suspicious that they're still alive now."

Allen bit his lip, thinking. Finally, he sighed. "We can't do much now. What we'll have to do is just continue to check over these paintings and see if we find anything unusual."

The others begrudgingly agreed, and with one last look at the still arguing siblings, they split up and started to examine and re-examine the portraits on the walls.

Viktor ran a hand through his charcoal hair, clearly exasperated by whatever his sister was continuously trying to tell him.

Natasha mimicked the man before casting him an icy glare. She signed something for what must have been the hundredth time.

And then the lights started to flicker.

"Oh sh*t," Matt cursed. "Holy f*cking sh*t!"

"Fifty minutes!" Luciano's voice bounced off the walls and figuratively crushed each person in the room. "My, you've wasted a lot of time, haven't you?" He chuckled. "Oh, no matter. I've just got a bit of a public service announcement for all of you." There was a pause that seemed to stretch out for years. "No one, my dear friends, is exempt from the killer."

The lights shut off completely, and there was a resounding thump in the room.

Then silence.

Finally, the lights came back on, but no one dared to move.

"No." Viktor's voice came in a harsh whisper. "No!"

Allen turned to see the tall Russian kneeling on the ground, cradling his tiny sister in his arms.

The Belarusian woman's violet eyes were still wide open, and her mouth frozen as if she'd been trying to speak. But that wasn't what truly caught his attention.

It was the crossbow bolt embedded in her chest.

No – her heart.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Viktor demanded, glaring angrily at nothing. "She didn't do anything!" He wiped his eyes in frustration, but tears still trickled down his cheeks. "Damn it," he muttered. "Damn it all!"

Allen slowly shook his head. Surely there was no way the Russian could be the killer.

At least that was what the American wanted so desperately to believe.

But as he watched Viktor mourn his sister, Oliver's limp body caught his eye, and his earlier suspicions returned. It didn't make sense that the charcoal-haired man had recognized what toxin had been used to kill the pastel-loving Brit.

Allen cursed under his breath, running a hand through his red-brown hair. Whether it was intentional or not, the killer was messing with his mind. He couldn't keep his thoughts straight, and he was realizing just what it meant to not trust anyone.

"We can't stay here," Flavio said, breaking the heavy silence. "There's no time to waste."

"And the longer we stay in one place the easier it is for us to die," Matt agreed, crossing his arms.

Viktor looked as if he wanted to protest, but then it was if something inside him broke. He gently lay his now lifeless sister on the ground, carefully shutting her eyes. He slowly stood, his face now completely void of emotion. "Let us depart."

They left the room, now a group of five.

The next place they discovered had to be the most intriguing – and dangerous – one yet.

Kuro raised a brow as he viewed the weapons covering the walls. "What is this place? Some kind of torture chamber?"

Flavio laughed nervously. "You know, I vote we leave this room before it's too late."

"We can't," Allen protested. "This could be the room where the killer is getting all their weaponry from."

"What do you mean by that?" Kuro asked, a brow raised.

"The killer has never taken someone out the same way twice," Allen explained. "Lutz was beaten, Francois stabbed with poles, Thurston a battle axe, Zao gutted, Julia strangled, Ronald crushed, Oliver poisoned, and Natalya shot with a crossbow." He gestured at the group. "None of us appear to be lugging around a container of weapons, therefore it had to come from somewhere."

"So you're saying it might come from down here?" Matt said, studying the room. He snorted. "I could believe that."

"Don't forget the other side of your proposition," Flavio snapped. "The killer now has complete access to all of these."

"Well, life's all about risks," Matt shrugged, but it was clear that he too was nervous. He turned towards his brother. "What's the plan, Allen?"

The American sighed. "Don't ask me that. Hell if I've got one."

"Be quiet," Kuro suddenly snapped. "I hear something." His scarlet eyes narrowed. "Or perhaps someone."

"What, do you think you're a f*cking ninja or something?" Matt scoffed.

The Japanese man glared at him, not taking the comment all that kindly. "Extensive martial arts training does make me a 'ninja'. Now do me a favor and kindly shut up."

"Who the hell do you think you're talking to, you son of a –"

"What exactly do you hear?" Allen interrupted, not wanting things to escalate further.

Kuro sighed. "I thought I heard someone breathing."

Flavio bit his tongue to hold back a shriek. "Someone breathing?!" He anxiously ran a hand through his bleached hair. "No one else is supposed to be in this house."

"Or that's what Luciano wants us to believe," Allen said darkly. He turned towards the Japanese man. "Where did you hear it?"

"It came from over there," Kuro said as he pointed at the wall on the left side of the room.

Matt snorted. "Hate to break it to you, but that's a wall."

"Perhaps there is a passage behind it," Viktor suggested, speaking for the first time since they'd entered the room. "Knowing Luciano, it's certainly possible."

Kuro made his way over to the wall, removing the sheathed katana and the broadsword that were hanging on it, the others moving slowly behind him. With careful precision he placed his ear against it, listening closely. He tapped on it once.

Twice.

Three times.

The third time it echoed.

"There's a room behind here," Kuro said, eyes wide.

"That means there has to be a way to get in," Allen said, crimson eyes flashing with determination. "Everyone, search this wall! There's got to be a switch somewhere."

And within five minutes they'd found it.

"Here," Kuro breathed, his fingers brushing over a small dent in the wall. After what felt to be a century long pause, he pushed it.

There was a low creak as the wall slowly fell backwards, revealing a dark and dirty room.

"I take it you want to investigate, right?" Flavio said nervously. Upon seeing Allen's nod, he sighed. "You must have never heard the saying 'curiosity killed the cat'."

Allen laughed at the comment. "Curiosity may have killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back."

Matt snorted. "Please. Stupidity killed the cat – curiosity was framed."

Kuro rolled his eyes at the pointless banter. "Look," he said coldly. "We've got thirty minutes until time is up. There's no point in us standing here and chatting away. We have to be proactive." He took a look at the newly discovered room. "Or at least, I will."

Viktor nodded. "He's right. We must take action now." He studied the opening. "I think we should explore."

"That's beyond idiotic," Flavio protested. "We don't know what – or who, even – is down there! Our lives are already on the line. I'd rather not cross it any farther."

"We don't have a choice," Allen admitted with a sigh. "We've got to look."

Matt ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair. "My mind or whatever is completely against it," he said reluctantly, "but logic is insisting that we have to."

"Then it's settled," Viktor said, entering the room behind the wall. "We shall look around and pray we find some sort of clue."

Allen nodded. "That's about all we can do."

With twenty-eight minutes on the clock, the rest of the group entered the mystery room.

It wasn't intentional, but each person went a separate way. The place was vast, but didn't seem to have much in it. Ropes and chains hung from the ceiling, and dust coated the floor and walls. The air was dense and heavy, creating almost a fog over the room.

"Classic," Allen muttered as he brushed dust from the wall. "This isn't ominous whatsoever."

He continued to search, but it seemed to be futile. He'd discovered nothing but a potential allergy to dust as well as several spider web things, neither of which were any sort of benefit to him.

Thirteen minutes later – of all numbers, of course – a shout and a string of Japanese curses filled the room.

Allen felt the blood drain from his face. By squinting, he was just able to see someone being dragged into the shadows.

"Help!" they screamed before breaking into a fit of coughs.

The American now had no doubts that it was Kuro – only he had no idea who was dragging him away.

"Let go of him!" he shouted, starting to run towards the two. But it seemed the closer he got the farther they were.

And then they disappeared into the shadows.

"F*ck!" Allen cursed loudly, slamming his palm to his forehead. "F*ck, f*ck, f*ck!"

He kept walking in the direction they'd disappeared in, but found nothing.

What made it worse was the silence.

There was no noise whatsoever within the dark room. No footsteps except that of his own.

It was petrifying.

And perhaps that was why Allen screamed so loudly when he looked up and saw Kuro's limp body dangling from a chain on the ceiling.

"Sh*t!" he shouted. "Oh my – holy f*cking sh*t!"

His shouts somehow summoned the others, because before he knew Flavio, Matt, and Viktor were all standing next to him.

"No," Flavio murmured, staring up at the dead man. "This is a joke. A sick joke." He looked around at the others, the pleading look in his eyes obvious even behind his glasses. "Please, tell me it's a joke!"

"Don't you realize that we want to?!" Matt snapped angrily, massaging his temples in frustration. His shoulders seemed to fall. "But we can't."

"What happened to him?" Viktor asked, turning towards Allen. "Did you see anything?"

"He was dragged away," Allen said bitterly, still staring at the body, watching the Japanese man's brown eyes roll into the back of his head. "Someone dragged him into the shadows and managed to knock him out or something and then kill him." His eyes narrowed as he shifted his gaze to the remaining three members of the group. "One of you."

Flavio's jaw dropped. "I beg your pardon?" he demanded. "How exactly are we supposed to know that it wasn't you?"

"It wasn't me," the American growled. "I would never kill someone!"

"That's what everyone else claimed, too," Flavio countered.

Matt snorted. "Well, look where that got them?" He glared at the Italian. "Dead."

"There's no time to argue," Viktor interrupted, his normally emotionless expression having turned into one of fear. "We have seven minutes until 11 o' clock."

The Canadian cursed. "That's it!" He punched the wall next to him, not even wincing despite the loud crack that had sounded suspiciously like the breaking of bones. "We're all going to die."

"Let's get out of here," Allen said. "For one, we've found nothing. And two…" He glanced up at Kuro's hanging body. "I don't want to stay in here with him."

No one argued.

After exiting the hidden room, they quickly found the switch that shut the door, making the room filled with weapons seem as if it was nothing but ordinary.

"Six minutes," Matt said angrily. "Six minutes until everything is over!"

"Make that three," Allen said, a sick feeling building in his stomach as he glanced at his watch.

Flavio started hyperventilating, unable to remain calm. "I'm going to die. I'm literally going to die because my a**hole of a younger brother has completely lost any trace of his sanity!"

Allen watched the panic ensue in different ways. Matt's anger, Flavio's rapid breathing, and Viktor's –

Viktor seemed perfectly calm.

In fact, a smirk was dancing on the Russian's lips.

Everything suddenly clicked into place.

But it was too late.

The lights shut off, and Luciano's voice filled the room. "Well, would you look at that?" he said mockingly. "Time seems to be up!" He laughed cruelly. "It seems you figured things out just a little too late." His laugh turned into a maniacal giggle. "Now the extermination can begin!"

A gunshot echoed in the room, and the lights turned on for just enough time to allow Allen to see Matt's body fall to the floor, blood trickling from his head.

The lights shut off, and a second gunshot filled the room, this time causing the American's ears to pop.

He shuddered as someone screamed.

The lights came back on, and this time stayed that way. Allen turned to see Flavio clutching his now-bleeding leg, a bullet embedded in it, and staring in a terrified manner at Viktor.

The Russian chuckled. It was a low, eerie laugh.

Allen felt his heart skip a beat as the man revealed a silver pistol.

"It's him!" Flavio shrieked. "Allen, it's him!" He winced, clutching his leg tighter. "Run, you idiot! Run!"

Allen hesitated, but turned on his heel and ran, fighting the urge to turn around after hearing a third gunshot and another scream.

 _I'm the only one left._

He choked back a sob and ran faster.

 _Everyone else is dead._

He swore he heard footsteps behind him.

 _I couldn't save them._

He put on an extra burst of speed, tearing around a corner and accidentally knocking a painting off the wall. He bit back a gasp as he saw the tunnel hidden behind it.

As quickly and quietly as he could, he climbed in and carefully set the painting back behind him. Then he started to run for what felt like the thousandth time that evening.

The tunnel was full of twists and turns, but never a fork. Allen wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. But it was when he saw the end of the tunnel that he truly felt scared.

At first glance, there was no obvious way out. It looked completely and utterly sealed shut. But after careful examination, he spotted the thin seam in the wall. And with a little bit of pressure, it fell before him.

He inhaled sharply upon seeing the room it revealed.

Luciano's office.

He didn't move a muscle, waiting for the Italian to discover him.

But nothing happened.

Unable to stop himself, he entered the room, only to bite back a scream of horror.

Luciano was dead, and his mangled corpse was still sitting in its chair.

"What happened?" Allen whispered, horrified by the sight before him.

Then he noticed the cassette tapes sitting on a small table in the corner of the room.

"What the hell?" he muttered, running over and sifting through them. Each one had a specific label.

 _Introduction. Time Limit. Extermination._

And several others. He noticed that they all seemed to have been spit out of some sort of machine. A quick glance let him know that whatever the machine was had been built to play tapes in a certain order and to eject them when done.

He shook his head, impressed by the ingenuity but also beyond confused by it.

What was the point? Why couldn't Luciano have done things as they happened? Hell, why was Luciano dead?

It didn't make any sense. Something seemed off. A tiny factor that he just couldn't put his finger on.

There was a low click as the door to the office opened.

Allen tensed up, then slowly turned around to come face to face with a certain charcoal-haired Russian.

 _I'm going to die._

He closed his eyes, expecting a gunshot to be the last thing he'd ever hear.

But it never came.

Instead, Viktor shoved the silver pistol into Allen's hands.

"Check it," he ordered, a serious look in his red eyes. "There are six rounds. Six bullets are still inside." When the American didn't move, he sent him a cold glare. "I said to check it!"

Allen shook himself out of his stupor and opened the gun, dumping six bullets into his hands. "What?" he said, staring at the silver pieces of death. "How?" His crimson eyes widened, and he stared at Viktor. "You aren't the killer."

"Took you long enough," the Russian said, rolling his eyes.

His eyes.

Eyes.

The same thought that Allen just couldn't quite reach suddenly seemed to flicker in his mind.

"We need to get out," Viktor said, taking back both the pistol and the bullets from the American. "I know a way."

"Wait," Allen interrupted, wracking his brain for the thought that refused to completely resurface. "How are you not the killer?"

"Because Luciano blackmailed me into pretending I was," Viktor replied, snapping the gun shut. "I didn't actually kill anyone." He looked around, noticing the Italian's corpse for the first time. "Of course," he muttered. "I should have known he'd be dead, too." He tucked the pistol away, turning back to Allen. "Come on. We need to go."

"Hold up, hold up," the teen said, staring at the Russian. "If you aren't the killer, then who the hell is?"

Viktor turned around with a sigh. "We don't have time for –" His eyes grew wide upon seeing something behind the American. "Run –!"

A knife spun through the air, sinking into the Russian's forehead and killing him within seconds, the life quickly fading from his red eyes.

Allen gaped as Viktor's body grew limp and crumpled to the floor, blood trickling from the wound in his head. Without thinking, he turned around, only to have the tip of a katana blade pressed up against his neck.

Scarlet eyes danced mockingly at him from the shadows. "Hello, Allen."

Scarlet.

That's what he'd forgotten.

"You don't have brown eyes," he said slowly, his own eyes narrowing as he stared at the figure still cloaked in darkness. "Do you, Kuro?"

The Japanese man chuckled, stepping out into the light. "Very good," he said, keeping the blade pressed against the teen's neck. "But unfortunately for you, you didn't catch on quick enough."

"So you killed everyone," Allen said, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Why? How?" He hesitated, searching for something to say. "Did Luciano put you up to it?" He had to keep stalling. Anything to keep that blade from slitting his neck and causing his blood to spill.

Kuro's grin widened. "Oh, so you don't have it all figured out?"

"Like hell I would," he spat. "I've been a little distracted trying to stay alive!"

The Japanese man tilted his head to the side, as if to acknowledge the American's statement. "Fair enough," he said, a smirk still dancing on his lips. "I suppose I can explain." He examined the teen. "What would you like to know first?"

Allen almost swore aloud. He may have managed to distract the man, but it didn't change the fact that a deadly sharp blade was still pressed against his neck. "Tell me how," he finally said. "Tell me how you did it."

"'It' is a very generalized term, you know," Kuro replied. "But fine." He chuckled. "Getting everyone here was the easy part." He grinned wildly at the American. "Everyone but you did not receive an invitation, Allen. They all received a letter threatening their life. It essentially said that they would be killed or have a certain secret revealed if they didn't attend the masquerade 'Luciano' was planning to have."

The blood drained from Allen's face. "What?! Why?!"

Kuro snorted. "Blackmail, of course. That recording of Luciano may have gone on and on about having some kind of relation to someone, and the killer having a specific grudge against each person, but those were all lies." He chuckled. "You see, Allen, with the exception of yourself, everyone here tonight had a secret that they didn't want getting out." He held up his other hand and began counting people off on his fingers. "Lutz. He dealt illegal drugs. Francois. He stole multiple times from several convenience stores. Thurston. He 'accidentally' shot his half-brother and sent him to the hospital. Zao. He mugged a couple in an alleyway. Julia. She was having an affair. Ronald." He cast Allen a sideways grin. "He didn't want it getting out that he knew about Julia's affair."

Allen's jaw dropped. "Ronald knew?"

Kuro snorted. "Of course he did. He wasn't an idiot." He continued counting. "Oliver. He flunked out of culinary school four times. Natasha. She lied about being robbed by someone and ended up putting a man in jail for seven years. Matt. He killed a few animals when it wasn't hunting season."

"Matt did what?" Allen demanded. "Matt was hunting?!"

Kuro chuckled. "There were many things you didn't know about that tough brother of yours, Allen." He cleared his throat and continued. "Flavio. He is – or was, I suppose – gay." He rolled his eyes. "As if no one knew that already." He then gestured to the floor. "And Viktor here…" He smirked. "Viktor here killed his older sister."

Allen wasn't able to hold back a gasp. "What?!"

"You heard me," Kuro replied, his red eyes dancing with amusement. "I am not aware of whether it was intentional or not, however. Nonetheless," he nudged the Russian's lifeless body with the tip of his boot, "it does not change the fact that she's dead, and he was the one at fault. He was so willing to keep that secret hidden that he didn't protest when I told him that I'd have to kill his little sister." He smirked. "Much, anyways." He turned his gaze toward the American. "Once I got them here it was simple. All I had to do was pick them off one by one." He laughed coldly. "It's amazing what one can do when in all black. And having experience in both martial arts and various weaponry also helps."

"But how did you get around so quickly?" Allen asked, eyebrow raised. "Don't expect me to believe that you have super speed or something."

The dark-haired man chuckled in response. "How do you think I knew of the secret room connected to the one filled with weapons?" He smirked. "I know every hidden passage within this place, as well as where they lead. Getting around was the least of my problems."

"Why use tapes of Luciano's voice?" the American asked. "And why kill him, too?"

Kuro wrinkled his nose in disgust. "For one, the man was beyond irritating. He also had a tendency to look down on me, which I did not appreciate. But simply put, after a while, he became useless." A murderous light filled his scarlet eyes. "And why use his voice? Easy question, Allen. I needed you – all of you – to think it was orchestrated by someone else. Everyone had a specific role to play, but in order to work it had to seem as if Luciano was the puppeteer." He laughed harshly. "In reality, you were all but pawns in my game." He paused. "Well, most of you. I was the king – the most important piece. Luciano the rook, protecting me from suspicion. Viktor was my queen, for he knew every detail of my plan and was going along with it. Natasha was the bishop, for she was so loyal to her brother that she was willing to die for me!" He shook his head. "What a fool."

"What about the knight?" Allen asked after a pause. "Surely you had one of those."

"My knight?" Kuro said in surprise. Then he laughed. "You were the knight, Allen. You were the only one who hadn't been blackmailed into the entire situation. The brave knight who wanted so desperately to save everyone else." His grip tightened on the katana. "The knight who will die on the battlefield." He offered the American a cruel grin. "But I'll give you this – you played well."

Allen cursed internally. That wasn't at all what he wanted to hear. Finally he said, "Why? Why would you kill everyone like this?"

"Why?" Kuro said bitterly. "Any reason. No reason. The thrill? Boredom? A test of wills?" His scarlet eyes seemed to stare into Allen's soul. "Perhaps none of the above." He took a step closer to the dark-haired teen, turning the blade so the edge was pressed up against his neck instead of the tip. "You ask me why." His eyes seemed to glow red in the dim light. "And the answer is simple." A cruel grin danced on his lips. "Because I can."

 _Swish._

There was a dull thunk as Allen's head toppled from his shoulders and fell to the ground, followed immediately by the sound of his body collapsing right next to it. Crimson blood slowly soaked the carpet.

There was the noise of a blade clattering on wood, and then harsh, maniacal laughter filled the room.

"A well-played game indeed," Kuro murmured. "But alas – checkmate."


End file.
